


HPKJ Backstory

by Scheherezade06



Series: Once Upon a Time-Turner [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Crossover, Gen, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scheherezade06/pseuds/Scheherezade06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Swan OUAT/HP Crossover with Killian Jones cast as a Hufflepuff.  This a collection of drabbles set before Emma's fifth year at Hogwarts, which will be posted as its own story in this series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Killian is Sorted Hufflepuff

 “I wanted to be in  _Gryffindor_ , Liam,” Killian whined, his eyes most certainly  _not_  brimming with tears.   “I  _told_  that daft old hat I wanted to be in Gryffindor!”

“And what did the hat say?” Liam asked the younger boy.

“It gave me a  _choice_ ,” Killian huffed despondently. 

Liam waited expectantly.  Killian frowned and fidgeted, but Liam remained silent.  Killian eventually sighed and explained.

“It told me it could do what I wanted or it could do what was  _right_ ,” Killian murmured, quietly, looking embarrassed. 

Liam studied his little brother for a long moment.

“Why does it upset you so?” he asked in a gentle voice.

“I wanted to be important,” Killian said.

Liam leaned back, steepling his fingers and touching them to his lips.

“You think being sorted to Hufflepuff makes you unimportant?”

“Everyone knows it’s the house for orphans,” Killian said bitterly.  “For lost boys and girls that can’t fit anywhere else.”

Liam tilted his head to the side.

“How do you make that, little brother?”

“Gryffindor chose the bravest,” Killian said, meeting Liam’s eyes before looking pointedly at Liam’s scarlet and gold tie.  “Ravenclaw taught the cleverest, and Slytherin only wanted the ambitious.  But Helga just took the rest—the ones that the other three didn’t want.”

“So, Gryffindors can’t be clever?”  Liam teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Not as clever as a Ravenclaw,” Killian declared.

“Don’t let Professor McGonagall hear you say that,” Liam warned.

“I’m being serious, Liam,” Killian complained.

“So am I, Killian,” Liam said, “and I’ve been at Hogwarts a little while longer than you have, so you should listen to me.”

Killian was still frowning, but he reluctantly gave Liam a “go on” gesture.

“So Gryffindors are brave, but some are brave and stupid,” Liam said, making a face to indicate he knew this from experience.  “And Ravenclaw—well, what good is cleverness without ambition?  Or ambition without cleverness or bravery?”

Killian’s brow furrowed.

“Killian, from what house was the last Hogwarts Tri-Wizard Champion?” Liam asked.

“Hufflepuff,” Killian mumbled, looking away.

“Do you think the Goblet of Fire would choose a coward?” Liam asked.  “Or an idiot?  Or a lay-about?”

Killian sniffled and looked uncomfortable.

“Hufflepuffs have all the virtues of the other houses, Killian, and they’re fair.  Fair and loyal,” Liam said.  “Hufflepuffs exemplify  _good form_.”

Killian fidgeted, not quite pouting, but looking uncomfortable. 

“But what if I’m not?” Killian protested after a moment.  “What if I’m not brave and clever and ambitious?”

He chewed on his lip and stared up into Liam’s eyes.

Liam made a chuffing sound and smiled at Killian.

“Then, little brother, you would not have received a letter,” Liam declared.

Killian blinked at that.

Liam clapped his brother on the back and then mussed his hair.

“If there’s a Jones brother who should be unhappy with his sorting, Killian, it is not you,” Liam said.  “Remember that.  I’m proud, little brother.  I’m proud that you’re a Hufflepuff.  So should you be.”

Killian smiled weakly at Liam.

“Good form?” Killian said after a moment, testing the words.  “I like the sound of that.”

Liam nodded.

“I thought you might.”


	2. Killian Loses Liam

Killian didn’t particularly care for Christmas.

Liam had died at Christmas. 

Killian had been so excited to go home for the holiday during his first year at Hogwarts.   But their father’s Death Eater “friends” had finally found the Jones brothers.  Killian and Liam had run, Liam slinging spells over his shoulder as he propelled the younger boy ahead of him down the alley.   

Killian had been sure that they’d made it to safety when he saw the flash of green.  Liam made no sound as he fell forward, collapsing onto Killian, eyes glassed in death, mouth slack.  Killian choked on his scream, his chest tight in fear and loss.

He didn’t get to say goodbye.

Killian stayed in the alley all night, holding his brother’s cooling body as tears spilled silently down his cheeks. 

In the morning, a muggle garbage man found the Jones brothers and summoned the police.  


	3. Thestral (Emma's First Year)

If Emma was honest with herself, she was lost.  She’d gone and properly wandered off and she’d never be heard from again. 

One would think that something as large as the castle would be impossible to lose track of, but Emma had managed it.  Now, she was stumbling through the forest in the rapidly falling dark.  Her unfamiliar robe kept snagging on branches and shrubs.  She’d thought the robes were neat, at first, but now she thought they were absolutely ridiculous.

After eleven long years of dreaming of a way out, one had finally come to her in the form of an invitation to wizard school.  But now Emma had messed it up, of course.  They would kick her out, she was sure of it.  This had all been a mistake, and they’d send her back to the orphanage or to that awful family that— _no_ , no matter what happened, she wouldn’t go back there.  She’d run away, first. 

_If_ she ever got out of the forest. 

Why had she separated from the rest of her class?  She couldn’t even remember, now.  With a sigh, she continued tromping; well, really more like creeping.  She tended to move quietly after… 

Emma rubbed the spot on her left wrist where the little circular scar was still visible, frowning at the memory.  She gave herself a little shake and resumed walking.  Thinking about where she would go after they expelled her. 

After a while, Emma thought she could hear a voice ahead.  She slowed down and moved as quietly as she could.

“But that’s over with, I suppose,” said a male voice. 

He sounded young, like a student, not a teacher.  Emma crept forward, peeking around a tree to see.

It was dark, but she could make out the shape of him, standing in a clearing in his school uniform.  His back was to Emma, but she could see a messy head of dark hair.  He had his arm stretched out as though he were touching something, his hand sliding along some imagined or invisible surface in front of him.  He picked up his hand and moved it back to where the motion had begun, stroking to the right as if petting some large animal. 

 “I miss you,” he said softly, his voice a hoarse whisper.  “So much.”

Emma barely caught the words.  She slunk forward to try to hear better.

“How am I supposed to do it, Liam?” he said, sounding sadder than anyone Emma had ever known.  “How can I do it alone?”

The boy inhaled sharply, and then cleared his throat, his shoulder sagging. 

Emma realized she was fully standing in the clearing, now, and she wasn’t sure what to do.  She heard a strange sound from the clearing, almost like a horse’s whinny, and then the boy’s back suddenly stiffened. 

“Are you lost?” the boy said, louder than before, his voice not quite kind.  He glanced over his shoulder and then did a double-take.  He spun around to face Emma, his posture shifting quickly from defensive to open. 

“Oh, hello,” he said in a friendly tone, his eyebrows shooting up.  She couldn’t quite make out his features in the dark.  His eyes and lips were just dark smudges against pale skin.

“Hello,” Emma said, looking down and wringing her hands.  She didn’t know why she was suddenly nervous. 

The boy was quiet for a moment, and then he took a step toward her.  It seemed as though he was watching her, reading her.  She felt like if she looked up, he’d know all her secrets.

“I was just heading back to the castle,” he said gently, “would you like to go with me?”

Emma nodded, meeting his eyes for a fraction of a second before looking away again.  The boy took another step toward her, offering her his hand.

“Who were you talking to?” Emma blurted out.  She immediately bit her lip, wishing she could unsay the words.

“Threstrals,” he said, his eyebrows rising again.  He looked behind him and gestured toward… nothing.

Emma shook her head.

“You can’t see them,” he said.  He nodded.  “That’s good, that’s good.  I’m glad.”

He turned back to Emma, who was tilting her head and looking at him with a puzzled expression. 

“They’re invisible,” he said, and she thought he smiled, but it was too dark to tell.

“Then how come you can see them?” Emma asked, putting her hands on her hips.

The boy paused, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“My brother taught me,” he said finally, quietly, looking away.

“Oh,” Emma said.  “Does he go here?”

“He did,” the boy said, offering Emma his hand again.  “But I’m much younger than he, so…  He doesn’t go here anymore.”

Emma took the boy’s hand in hers and let him lead her out of the clearing.  They walked together in silence for several minutes.  The forest grew darker and darker around them, but the boy’s footsteps never hesitated.  Emma wondered if he went into the woods at night a lot. 

Eventually, they came out of the woods onto a grassy hill.  The castle loomed before them, big and impressive, like something from a fairy tale.

“There we are,” said the boy, turning his head to look at her.  She thought his eyes might be blue.  “Think you can manage from here?”

Emma looked at the castle for a moment, and then she looked at him again and nodded.

“Well, then,” he said, shuffling his feet.  He reluctantly let go of her hand.  “Off you go, then.  I’ve… I’ve left something behind.  You go on.”

Emma frowned at the boy for a moment.  She didn’t think he was being completely honest.

“Thank you,” she said.

He bobbed his head and took a couple steps back.  He gave her a little wave. 

Emma waved back and then started walking toward the castle.  When she looked back, he was still standing on the hill, watching her.  She suddenly realized that she hadn’t asked him his name.  She took a step toward him, but he retreated to the tree line, disappearing into the forest. 

Emma waved again, in case the boy was still watching, and then she turned around and marched toward the castle.


	4. Patronuses (Killian's 3rd/4th Year)

As a third year, Killian Jones had trouble summoning a patronus.  When he was able to produce anything at all, it came in the form of an amorphous bird.  Only the wings were clearly defined.  The rest of the creature was hazy and ill-formed. 

David Nolan’s proud ram would canter around him, shaking its majestic horns, and Graham’s sleek wolf would look upon him with wide, wise eyes as Killian focused, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he tried to bring his own ghost creature into focus. 

Killian would recall his brother’s majestic albatross, swooping through their shared room when he was a child.  He had asked Liam to summon it again and again so he could marvel at its ethereal beauty. 

But as a thirteen-year-old, Killian’s eyes would prickle as he tried to force his broken spirit to coalesce into the echo of his brother’s patronus.  Killian  _knew_  that his animus was a bird—definitely some sort of waterfowl—but why wouldn’t it manifest clearly?  Its wings were large, like an albatross, but its neck seemed so long, like a cormorant or a crane.  When he thought of those birds, it still wouldn’t take shape.       

And then, in his fourth year, Killian happened to be outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom as the new crop of third years were learning how to summon their patronuses.  He sighed in frustration as he saw some of them cast the spell effortlessly.  A smiling girl with short black hair called forth a proud ewe that cantered around her blonde friend.  The pretty brunette with long hair streaked with red summoned a sleek she-wolf that sat on its haunches and gazed at the blonde girl expectantly.  The blonde, meanwhile, had her back to him, but her shoulders were hunched in concentration.  An amorphous bird began to take shape in the air in front of her, and Killian’s breath caught.  The patronus spread its wide wings and stretched its long neck, coming slowly into focus as a graceful, powerful swan.

Killian felt as though a great weight had hit his chest.  His heart stuttered as he watched the girl, willing her to turn around.  In that moment, he needed more than anything to see her face. 

She denied him, but the swan itself seemed to notice him, cocking its head to the side.  Killian saw the girl’s curtain of blonde hair flick sideways as she started to turn to see what the spirit was looking at.  For a split second, Killian was frozen, his desire to flee and his desire to know who she was warring within him. 

He cursed himself a coward as he threw himself to the side, out of the view of the classroom door and walked quickly away, each step seeming to burn his feet.  He wound his way to a familiar, abandoned corridor and withdrew his wand.

“Expecto patronum,” he whispered, feeling the difference as the spell coalesced in the form a cocky-looking cob that bristled its feathers at him as if annoyed that it had taken him so long to manage the spell properly.


End file.
